Independence
by ArtEnchanter
Summary: The day that Harry's Hogwarts letter came, it was Petunia who picked up the post. She wrote a reply, refusing the acceptance letter. Therefore, Harry never went to Hogwarts – but that doesn't mean he never learnt magic. AU
1. Lynda's Flower Shop

_**A/N:** This is an AU of "What if Harry never went to Hogwarts?" sort. It's eventual slash (Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter) and a slow burn. _

_Before you ask, Ian is the wizard from the Prisoner of Azkaban movie, the one performing wandless magic and reading "A Brief History of Time" in the Leaky Cauldron._

_I'm looking for a BETA for this story as well, so if you wish to help or know someone, PM me :)_

...

Harry had a tiny flat tucked away above a convenience store in Streatham Hill, London; with a bedroom that barely fit a bed in it and a kitchen that doubled as a living room, as there was a grand total of three rooms in the flat including the bathroom and the previously mentioned bedroom.

So really the living area was an old sofa pushed against a wall, a rocky coffee table that you basically had step over to get to the bathroom and the two-by-three space that you called the kitchen with puke-green cupboards and a fridge that sometimes let out strange noises.

It had a nice little balcony in the bedroom though, which was very green thanks to the odd collection of plants Harry kept on it.

Harry's friends didn't like his flat, but he thought it had character. Then again, he lived in a cupboard under the stairs until the Dursley's realised he was growing too big for it (which took longer than one would've thought, as Harry was always small for his age), so it wasn't surprising he didn't mind the tight space.

He lived there since the Dursleys made him move out at eighteen, as soon as he finished Sixth Form. Harry didn't want to go to University, much to the disappointment of his teachers. He wasn't academic at all, never enjoyed school in terms of having to learn what he was told and then taking exams in it. However, he was smart and if he was curious about something, he spent all his time researching it.

Harry knew a lot of things about the stuff he liked, but if he found something boring then it was likely he didn't have a clue about it.

That trait annoyed his oldest friend greatly. Ian was Harry's old science teacher at Stonewall Secondary. When Harry took up the Physics A-Level at the Stonewall Sixth Form, Ian was the teacher he got. He was an eccentric, rather young teacher (who favoured Harry during class, to which Harry remained oblivious).

Ian, or Mr Brown, as Harry used to have to call him, had a knack for recommending Harry books he'd like. He fed Harry's obsession with learning everything there was about the subject Harry was obsessing over. However, he also tended to force his student into researching things that Harry found unnecessary or boring, if only to keep his grades at a good average.

Case and point: it was a great struggle for both parties for Harry to scrape a 'C' in Chemistry at GCSE.

Nevertheless, Ian never gave up. A few months after Harry enrolled to Stonewall, he also admitted why he took such interest in Harry. It may have took a freak out and a half on the behalf of the boy (eleven year old Harry thought Ian was being perverted and almost admitted his suspicions to the Head of Year), for Ian to finally come out with it, but he did.

Ian was magical and so was Harry.

Ian told Harry how he, himself, was a muggleborn ("It's when a wizard is born to muggles, keep up Harry – yes muggles are non-magical folk, isn't it obvious?") and that Harry was a half-blood. It took a few more years before he told Harry about the night the Potter's died. However, he spoke of Hogwarts ("Load of bollocks, that school. Greatest in Europe, my hairy arse – I don't think they updated the syllabus since the goblin wars that Binns keeps talking about. Fine castle though, you should've seen it.") and admitted he wasn't sure why Harry didn't get his letter, because he clearly had more than enough magic.

That was the birth of Harry's first and longest obsession.

Harry learnt everything Ian knew about magic. The older man admitted to his experiments with trying to break down magic with science – which is how he came about being adept with wandless magic. Understanding magic at its base level made Ian more in control with it and thus, he could perform most magic wandlessly and wordlessly. He only really needed his wand for the stronger spells, which he barely used anyway since he returned to the muggle world.

He passed on his knowledge to Harry, who soaked it up like a sponge and never bothered to go to Diagon Alley to get a wand. He seemed to have a bigger knack for it than Ian, which annoyed the other man greatly.

Their friendship continued after Harry left sixth form and became more casual. Ian finally convinced Harry to call him by his first name and frequently visited his flat if only to complain about how small it was. Harry developed selective hearing when it came to it.

Harry was twenty-two when magic became something more than just experiments and an easier way to stir his tea.

He was at work, which for him meant doing almost everything at "Lynda's Flower Shop". Lynda was a sweet old lady who started it almost fifty years ago. She passed ownership up to her son, Mitchell, who had no clue about how to run it and thus hired eighteen year old Harry.

It started off with Harry being on the till and unloading deliveries. Mitchell loved flowers and had a knack for arranging them and taking care of plants, but he didn't have a head for running a business. Gradually, Harry started to do all the paperwork and accountancy while Mitchell created beautiful bouquets and talked to the clients.

It was an early Wednesday afternoon, the air was warm, but not overbearingly so. The shop wasn't busy and Harry was checking over the invoices while behind the till. Mitchell was off to deliver flowers for a wedding and was due to return just before the closing time.

Harry didn't mind days like that. Slow, not overly challenging. He liked being kept busy at work, but sometimes it was nice to catch a break.

The bell above the door rang around two o'clock. A tall, thin man walked into the shop, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. He wore an all-black suit, with an open robe over it and his platinum hair was slicked back.

"Hi, can I help you with something?" Harry asked, pushing the invoices to once side.

The man approached the counter, lips pursed in distaste. Harry thought it was awfully rude. "Yes, I'm looking for Mitchell Cornfoot."

"I'm afraid he's out on a delivery at the moment and won't return until late. Is it something I can help you with?" Harry said evenly.

"I had an order of plants from Cornfoot." The main said curtly. "For Malfoy."

Harry nodded. "I'll check if Mitchell left them in the back for you, please wait a minute."

"Do hurry up, I don't want to be here any longer than necessary."

Harry bit his lip, trying to stop himself from snapping back at the man, Malfoy was his name it seemed. He hurried to the back of the shop, leaving him alone at the front.

Usually the plants for special orders were on the shelves on the right side of the small room, however after a few minutes of searching, Harry found a crate for 'D. Malfoy' tucked away next to some boxes where it certainly didn't belong.

He did a quick survey of what was in the crate and noticed that two of the plants were not of muggle origins and all five of them were difficult to obtain in England. So Mitchell was dabbling with the wizarding world now? Harry's brow furrowed, he wasn't aware Mitchell even knew about wizards, nevermind worked with them.

It was something he should mention to Mitchell once he came back.

Deciding that it was a matter for later and that Malfoy was probably going to snap at him for taking his time, Harry hurried back to the front of the store.

"Finally," The blonde muttered when the crate was placed on the counter.

"Right, I'll just need you to sign off this form, it's just for the records and means you picked up the order." Harry signed and dated on his part before passing the form to Malfoy.

Malfoy took the biro he was handed sceptically, as if he was not used to using them. He scanned the form and his eyes paused where Harry signed his name. He looked up at him in confusion, frowning.

"Is something wrong?"

"Is your name really Harry Potter?"

"Yes." Harry replied slowly.

Malfoy didn't say anything else, just hurriedly signed the form. Harry handed him a copy and kept one to file away later.

Before he could say anything, both Malfoy and the crate were gone.

…

Harry saw Mitchell pull up in the delivery van just as came back from putting the day's earnings in the safe. Mitchell walked into the shop, cheery as can be and waved at Harry in greeting.

"The wedding went to swell, the bride looked so beautiful with her bouquet."

"I'm sure she did." Harry smiled. "Hey Mitchell, there is something though. A guy came in today to pick up an order."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "What's so special about that?"

"Well," Harry drawled. "I was not aware that we've expanded into magical plants, that's all."

The other man paled, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"You know," Harry continued. "I was not aware you knew about magic at all, Mitchell."

...

Draco returned to the Manor and dropped the plants off in his potions lab. He didn't like going to that awful place – Lynda's Flower Shop. It was so muggle that he was ashamed of doing business there. Howerver, it was the only place in all of Britain that could get him some specific plants. They weren't illegal, but those species did not like magic. Their potency decreased the longer they were kept in magical surroundings, which is why wizards didn't bother to deal with them- usually they lost most of their potency by the time they reached their client. There was no gold in that. Muggles did not know of some of them and the others they considered very exotic plants. He wouldn't be able to find them in any old flower shop. He was lucky to find Cornfoot, that squib had some uses.

What was more important though was the man that worked for Cornfoot.

Harry Potter.

Was is _that _Harry Potter? Draco wasn't sure, but he saw photographs of James Potter once and he saw some similarities. He couldn't see the scar, but then again that Potter's forehead was covered.

He looked about the same age as Draco, which would've been correct as they were meant to be at the same year at Hogwarts.

If it truly, definitely, was Harry Potter, the one that apparently rejected his Hogwarts letter – who even does that? - then what should Draco do?

There was always a chance it was a fluke and there was another Harry Potter living in London who just happened to look a little bit like James Potter.

Draco bit his lip as he cut up the plants for the potion. He should really tell someone, perhaps his Father would know what to do.

He threw the first plant into the potion and stirred thirty times clockwise. He decided to approach his Father with the matter as soon as the potion was finished.

…

There was tea, lots of it.

Harry and Mitchell were sat in the back room of the flower shop. They closed it all up and took refuge there, Mitchell nervously drinking large amounts of tea. Apparently it helped him get his thoughts straight.

Harry was perched on an old chair, his own mug in hand. He was still waiting for an explanation.

Mitchell finally took a deep breath and made eye contact with Harry. "I'm not really sure where to start."

"How do you know about magic?" Harry offered the first question.

"I'm a squib." Mitchell unwillingly admitted. His cheeks reddened as if he said something shameful, which in the wizarding community, it really was. "My parents left me in the care of Lynda when I was a baby, so she's like a mother to me. They were magical, and she was a squib who couldn't have children of her own."

Harry nodded solemnly, suddenly feeling guilty for asking. It felt intrusive.

"It was a normal flower shop at first, but in the past few years there started to be a demand for some plants...they have uses in potions, but they don't respond well to being in magical places for long. I had contacts in other countries through some friends and I ended up doing this on the side." Mitchell admitted. "I never really expected for you to find out."

"I was bound to eventually." Harry rolled his eyes.

Mitchell smiled weakly. "I guess. How are you taking it so well though?"

He got a shrug in response. "It's nothing really illegal. I was just surprised you knew about magic, which means you really know about me as well."

"Yeah, that may have swayed my decision to hire you a little." He laughed in embarrassment. "The Boy Who Lived working at a squib's florist shop. It sounds truly ridiculous. It was a good decision, though."

Harry hummed and took a sip of his tea. Mitchell smiled at him. "So are we good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

…

_**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed this, although it is a little short. I will try to make future chapters a bit longer, but it really depends on where the plot takes me. I don't promise regular updates, but I will try to make them frequent at least._

_There's a lot of back story that will slowly get explained in future chapters, I barely even mentioned what's going on in the Wizarding World and such! We are in for a long ride, so prepare yourselves as I might be throwing a lot of things at you. _

_Please review and let me know what you think, I haven't written a Harry Potter fanfiction in a long time, so I hope for some feedback as I write more!_

_**I might raise the rating up as the chapters get put up, if I do, I will put up a warning at the top of the chapter, etc. For now it's T though, as nothing really happened yet.**_


	2. An Abundance of Malfoys

_**A/N:** For the people being like "Dumbledore and the Ministry wouldn't let Petunia do this I want an explanation", I'm afraid you are gonna have wait for a full explanation. There's a little bit on it in this chapter, but it still has many holes in it. You'll find out the details when Harry finds them._

_Also, to back up my claim of Dumbledore and the Ministry sometimes can't do shit if Petunia puts her mind to it (to a point, but you know), go read An Aunt's Love by Emma Lipardi :)_

_**Still looking for a BETA, so DM me if you're interested.**_

…

Draco was hesitant to speak to his Father, although he was confused as to why. He spoke to his Father frequently, daily even. It wasn't like he was admitting to something terrible either, he was just going to admit that he may have found Harry Potter.

Right.

What was he so worried about? Surely Father would believe him, he'd know what to do with the information. Father wouldn't think he was lying or being stupid.

"Pull yourself together," Draco gritted his teeth, muttering to himself. He was twenty-two for Merlin's sake, he should not be acting like he was. So – so childishly. It was just not done, especially by a Malfoy.

Draco walked slowly to the lounge, where his Father liked to spend evenings. He found him there, sitting comfortably in the armchair by the fireplace with wine and a newspaper. The newspaper wasn't written in English, it appeared to be French.

Lucius Malfoy looked up as his son entered the room, motioning for him to sit down.

"Draco," Lucius said in a way of greeting and poured a glass of wine for Draco while refilling his own. Draco took it graciously and took a sip, hoping to calm some of his nerves with it.

"I wished to talk to you about something Father,"

The elder Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "You seem nervous Draco, is something wrong?" There was some concern in his voice, reserved only for his family in private. Lucius Malfoy showed no such emotions to the public, it was preposterous to even think it.

Draco hesitated, but he was urged to speak up by Lucius. "It's nothing serious, I'm being stupid." He admitted. "I don't know why I'm nervous to tell you this."

"And what exactly is 'this'?" Lucius drawled.

"Well," Draco took a deep breath. "I went to pick up some plants for that potion I told you about last week, but Cornfoot wasn't there. I got the plants from his subordinate."

"Draco, get to the point. I hope to Merlin that what you just said wasn't it, as it was just wasting both of our times." Draco's cheeks turned pink in embarrassment.

"It's his subordinate, Father. He signed the collection form as Harry Potter."

Lucius paused, wine glass raised half way to his lips.

"He looked a bit like those photos of James Potter I saw before. Father, I think it actually might be him."

…

When Harry came home, Ian was there already. He lounged on the battered sofa, with his feet on the coffee table. His head was leaned back and his mouth was wide open. He was snoring rather loudly and there was a book open on his chest.

Harry carefully put the book to the side, bookmarking the page it was open on, before promptly waving his hand. Water appeared in thin air above Ian and fell down on him. The man woke up immediately, spluttering.

"This isn't a hotel you know," Harry smirked, walking over to the kettle and pouring fresh water into it. Ian grumbled, waving his hand and drying himself as well as the area around him.

"I'm your friend, I just came round to visit."

"Ian," Harry laughed. "You're here more than I am."

The other man shrugged, having no valid excuse for that. "Technically, that is your own fault. I usually hand around waiting for your skinny arse to appear."

"You could call me," Harry said. "Or you know, use those two-way mirrors you were so insistent on? Waiting about in my flat, hoping for a slim chance of me appearing isn't very productive."

"It's your flat, you're bound to come back sometime."

Harry sighed, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "Ian, you've stayed here for three weeks once, because you forgot I was on holiday."

"It is not my fault you were off playing boytoy for some rich guy and didn't mention it to me before you went."

"I did though. Also, I was not a boytoy for Adam. Boyfriend doesn't equal boytoy."

Ian shrugged. "Two weeks in advance, can't blame a guy for forgetting. Let's face it, Adam totally saw you as a boytoy."

"Can we not have this conversation again?" Harry brewed the tea, handing one to Ian. He took it and used his magic to stir sugar into it. Harry did the same.

"You started it." The older man pointed out. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Ian was older and a teacher. Unlike Harry, who spent most of his time under the strict rule of the Dursleys, Ian grew up carefree and never really stopped being a kid. It's partially why he became so popular with his students, they felt they could relate to him. Harry too, felt like that and Ian's young outlook on life turned the teacher into a friend and someone Harry could confide in.

The two talked for a while, mostly keeping the conversation to light banter. They both had a long day of work behind them and the simple conversation was refreshing and relaxing. After a while though, Harry remembered what happened earlier at the shop with Mitchell and brought the situation up.

"Well that would explain why he is so good with plants," Ian pointed out. "Squibs don't have enough magic to be trained in it, but they still have some. It seems Mitchell's core is the reason behind his exceptional skills. Herbology and Potion skills are common in squibs."

"I thought squibs were basically cast out of the magical community? He was doing business with wizards, I thought most of them weren't too keen on it."

The older man shrugged his shoulders. "Most aren't, but some are pretty okay with it. Mostly those who had squibs in their own family. What did you say was that wizard's name?"

"He said it was Malfoy," Harry replied. "He didn't look too happy to be speaking to me, or the prospect of talking to Mitchell really. He seemed odd when he was signing the forms."

"Ah," Realisation came over Ian, making him laugh. "Malfoy is an old pureblood name, he must have hated doing business with a squib. The Malfoy heir has started his Potions Master career though, so there is no doubt as to why he needed those plants."

"I think he recognised me," Harry bit his lip, the last thing he wanted was the wizarding world after him.

Ian wasn't too worried, after all the wizarding world hasn't came after him yet and they had years to do so. As long as he stayed away from places like Diagon Alley (which he seldom visited anyway, he hardly had need for it), Ian thought he would be fine.

"Besides," Ian added. "You can hardly be the only Harry Potter in London. Chances are, Malfoy will take you for a muggle with a similar name and forget about you soon enough."

Harry nodded, but he had a strange feeling about it all.

…

Draco left Lucius with much to think about. He loved his son and wanted to trust him, but the chances that he actually found the Harry Potter in some squib's flower shop? It was baffling to even think about.

However, on the off chance that it was actually the right Potter, the matter had to be investigated.

The wizarding world as a whole did not have an official 'hunt' for Harry Potter. When the news broke out all those years ago that Potter didn't turn up to Hogwarts, it caused a mass panic and months of rumours.

Hogwarts and the Ministry worked together, albeit unwillingly, to find the young wizard. The matter was closed without an explanation given to the public, although Lucius found out through his connections that Potter's guardian refused the Hogwarts letter on Potter's behalf. There was an investigation that followed, but nothing came out of it.

Through some coincidences, the matter was closed and put to rest without anyone actually speaking to the Potter boy. No one picked up on the matter again due to the changes that went on in the government, and the world around them as a whole, which became more of a priority. The case was forgotten and the Boy-Who-Lived became nothing more than an old rumour.

Lucius thought that the Ministry should not be involved just yet. Potter was not officially listed as missing and he was not a minor anymore – it would be difficult to find a loophole that would allow the Ministry to be directly involved in his life, if the man Draco saw was truly him.

This was a more personal matter, even if some people involved were Ministry officials. He would inform them naturally, but in due time.

For now there was one other he would tell – and pay a visit to the flower shop as well.

…

It was a Friday, over a week since Harry found out about Mitchell's side business and magical history. They moved on from it and not much has changed in the shop. Harry admitted to Mitchell that he'd rather not be involved in the magical side of the business, which Mitchell accepted and kept him from it.

Both Mitchell and Harry were in the shop, it was a sunny morning and they've decided to take some of the plants and have them displayed outside of the shop. They moved a few boxes of flowers and Mitchell went back inside to fill his watering can while Harry remained outside to put the prices on the flowers again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed a cane on the sidewalk next to him. It came attached to a man, who under further inspection had remarkably long pale hair and held similarities to the young Malfoy Harry remembered from last week. He suspected a relation there, the man in front of him was probably the other's father.

"I don't suppose you can help us young man, we're looking for a Mr Harry Potter." The long haired man drawled, when he saw that Harry noticed their presence.

Harry's eyes darted to the man on the other side to who he presumed was another Malfoy. He was taller than both Harry (which wasn't too difficult, Harry was always small for his age) and the other. He was handsome, with pale skin, dark eyes and even darker hair with a slight curl to it. He looked a bit younger than the Malfoy man and his whole posture radiated confidence and power.

He just oozed off power with a hint of danger.

Harry felt himself blush slightly, it wasn't everyday that he saw a man as attractive as that. He wasn't about to voice it anytime soon though. He was attractive yes, but so were many other men who didn't look as dangerous.

"What do you need from him?"

"We just want to talk," The blonde man smiled politely.

"I'm sorry, but somehow I don't believe that." Call him paranoid, but a gut feeling was telling him that there was something off about those men. "Now if you excuse me, I have to get back to work."

Harry slid past the men and slipped back into the shop, feeling a little bit safer. It was a stupid thought, because if they wanted to hurt him they had more of a chance inside the shop rather than on the open street. However being closer to Mitchell and in a space he was familiar with comforted him.

Mitchell walked out from the back with the watering can and froze when he saw the two men enter the shop after Harry. His deer in the headlights look would've been comical if Harry wasn't nervous himself. It looked like Mitchell recognised at least one of the men.

"I assure you Mr Potter that we only wish to talk." The blonde man spoke again. Harry had his back to him, walking towards the counter. Mitchell didn't move.

"You seem to be working on the presumption that I am the Mr Potter you are looking for." Harry said evenly. He wasn't going to show his nerves, especially after he saw the way Mitchell looked at those men. That look implied familiarity and unfortunately, unpleasantries.

"I have known your father before his passing, you look too much like him for it to be a coincidence."

"My father is alive and well, thank you very much." Harry lied through his teeth. He knew that the lie would be proven false quickly, if not immediately, but he hoped that it would buy him some time.

"Is that so," This time, it was the dark haired man that spoke. His voice was deep and smooth, almost like a purr.

"Yes," Harry insisted. "Now if you excuse me, I have work to do. If you're not going to buy anything, I suggest that you leave."

It has come as a great surprise when after a moment or two, he heard footsteps leaving. Harry released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"They will be back you know." Mitchell said when he felt the pair was no longer close to their shop.

"I know," Harry sighed. "I just don't want to deal with them. They were wizards, weren't they?"

Mitchell nodded. "The blonde was Lucius Malfoy if I remember correctly. I'm not sure about the bloke with him, I can't recall ever seeing him, but he must be some sort of pureblood if Lucius was with him."

"He felt dangerous." Harry commented, mostly to himself. "I don't know why all this is happening so suddenly, I mean, I lived twenty-two years without any wizard ever contacting me and now I see Malfoys on every corner." Any wizard besides Ian, that is, but the man didn't really count as an ordinary wizard. Plus, he lived mostly in the muggle world.

Mitchell shrugged, patting Harry on the arm as if to console him. "I'm not sure Harry, but this can't mean anything good. Nothing to do with Lucius Malfoy was ever good news."

"I know," Harry replied, wishing that he could just live his perfectly normal life. Why did the wizards have to meddle all of sudden? "I know."

…

_**A/N: **Firstly, thank you so much for all the alerts/favourites and reviews! Please keep them coming, I appreciate every one of them. _

_This chapter was mostly a way of introducing you to Harry's life before all the shit kicks off. I wanted to establish him being confident in his sexuality. It's mostly because this isn't a 'Harry realises he likes boys' story. Plus it just shows that Harry had a life before Voldemort sweeps him off his feet. Some may think it's a filler really, but I feel it is vital to establish early in the story._

_Before you ask, yes the Malfoys will be important in this story. I love them to pieces, especially how I imagine Narcissa in this particular AU (but more on that in later chapters!). I'm also sure you all know who the mysterious man is ;)_

_(Also if you think that Lucius and Mr Tall Dark and Handsome left too easily, worry not, there's a reason for it!)_


	3. Good Intentions

Harry tried not to let the wizard situation bother him, but it was just pretend. With Mitchell running about, craning his neck on the look out for anything tall and blonde; Harry couldn't find peace at work. Back at his place it wasn't any better, his thoughts wandered to 'what if' scenarios of what the wizards wanted. Ian, who Harry told everything, was no help either. He kept speculating and reminding Harry to try to stay away from the wizards.

It's not like Harry needed reminding really. Ian was just being obnoxious about it, because he was worried about the younger man. Harry understood and respected that, but it was annoying.

At least he hasn't seen the Malfoys since. It's been just over three weeks and Harry was slowly starting to relax about it. Hopefully they gave up and left him be.

Naturally, that was not the case. The world seemed to have a personal vendetta against Harry Potter and eventually, it showed.

Harry left the local Greggs with his lunch in hand when he felt a presence next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man that accompanied Lucius Malfoy three weeks ago. The man fell into place, walking side by side with Harry. The latter wanted to be doing anything but that.

Neither spoke, but the man followed when Harry took a sharp turn towards the local park rather than straight back to the flower shop. He picked up the pace, but the man had no trouble keeping up to speed with him. After a rather long and brisk walk along the paths of the park, Harry thought that since blatantly ignoring the man wouldn't work, he'd have to confront him.

Harry stopped abruptly, turning on his heel to face the other man. The latter was smiling politely.

"Look, I don't know what you want from me, but I'd appreciate it if you could just leave me alone." Harry said.

"I only wish to talk." The man replied evenly.

"That's all nice and everything, but the thing is, I don't believe you." Harry sneered. "You have given me no reason to trust you."

The wizard seemed to consider this. "Is there anyway I can gain your trust enough for us to speak?"

"No." The younger man said bluntly. "I'd appreciate it if you could actually listen to what I'm saying though and _leave me alone._"

"Unfortunately I cannot do that, Mr Potter." The wizard laughed, taking a step towards him. Harry backed away, not taking his eyes off the man. "I assure you I only have... good intentions."

"Everyone has good intentions, doesn't mean what they're doing is good in itself."

"Those are some wise words, Mr Potter. I see you haven't corrected me that time."

"Clearly I can't get through that thick skull of yours so I didn't bother trying." The unnamed wizard narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. Harry knew that things were going to get ugly soon if he didn't get out – and fast.

"I don't appreciate your cheek." The wizard hissed. His wand appeared in his hand suddenly. Harry thought it was just the right time to start panicking. "You will be coming with me and we will_ talk._ One way or another."

Harry squeaked when the wand was raised against him, but he would never admit to making such a noise. When a curse came flying at him, he fell to the ground and rolled away. Not his proudest moment, however it got him out of the line of fire for a moment.

He jumped up to his feet again and ran for cover. His back was pressed against a tree as he saw a ray of angry red light shoot just by his right shoulder. His lunch was dropped and left forgotten on the path, which Harry would only realise hours later when his adrenaline levels dropped and his body demanded nutrition again.

"Potter I'm warning you, you're just making this more difficult for yourself." He heard the wizard call out, his voice coming closer. Panicked, Harry made a decision of running left. Right was where the spell came from and in front of him was a rather tall fence he couldn't climb fast enough to get away.

It was a wrong decision.

He only made it a few yards before the man literally appeared in front of him, wand pointed at his neck. Harry suppressed a scream as he was backed into the tree trunk. The wizard slammed one hand into the tree, trapping Harry from one side. He didn't pay much attention to that though, he was more interested in the stick that was pushing against his throat.

"This would've been a lot easier if you haven't been so stubborn."

Harry bit back a response, being almost too aware of the wood pressed against his throat. He'd have to think fast, there had to be a way of escaping the situation. It wasn't like he was magicless, as if he lost his wand. He never had one in the first place.

"Are you, or are you not Harry Potter?"

"Oh, _now _you're asking?" Harry's head was racing, he never paid attention to the battle magic side of things. However, he didn't_ need_ battle magic, just a way of escaping –

"Humour me," The wizard drawled, a hint of irritation and amusement clear on his face.

"I don't suppose I will."

Harry apparated.

…

The sad truth about wandless magic was that some of it was weaker to some extent. It required more precision, concentration and sheer magical power to complete to the same standard as its wand counterpart. Whilst that wasn't too difficult to complete with the more common spells, the more old and complex spells had a mind of their own and didn't follow the rules like a common housekeeping charm would.

Unfortunately, strong protection spells and wards belonged in that category.

Anything small, like a muggle repelling charm or something to keep creatures away wouldn't be a problem. However, wards to keep wizards away? Those were another story. They were difficult to cast even with a wand, which annoyed Harry greatly.

He prided himself in being good with magic. He never had a wand and wasn't planning on getting one, just because there was a certain satisfaction in being able to do everything with his sheer force of will rather than relying on a medium. Harry was also the first to admit that although he was good, he wasn't amazing.

He had no interest in battle magic nor the arcane spells that were almost rituals. Harry never had a need for wards and from what he read once, the best ones were goblin ones and charmed rune stones – both of which were near impossible for him to get a hold of.

Which was why he was grudgingly pouring over books he took from Ian's house moments after he calmed down from his narrow escape. While a few weeks ago he'd want nothing to do with battle magic or warding – Harry fancied himself a pacifist, which Ian all but laughed at in the privacy of his own thoughts – now he devoured the information like his life depended on it.

When you thought about though, it really did.

Wards were difficult and Harry was worried that he wouldn't be able cast one strong enough. Sure enough, he was confident in actually performing the spell correctly after a few tries, but the strength of it was a mystery. All books spoke of casting it with a wand and Harry had to spend some time to translate it into a wandless casting. Which meant he needed time, he didn't _have._

"What are you doing here Harry?"

Harry jumped and the book he was holding went flying. He was perched in Ian's apartment still, using his living room as a study area. Books were everywhere. He didn't bother going back to work, only texting Mitchell that he was attacked and that he went to hide.

"Oh God, Ian it's only you." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, scrambling to his feet and picking up the fallen book.

"Right, what got your knickers in a twist?" Ian said slowly, worry washing over him. It wasn't like Harry to be so nervous.

"That wizard that was with Malfoy found me, he attacked me." Harry said quickly. "I escaped, but I had to reveal that I can do magic."

"Damn Harry, you fucked up. None of the spells hit you did they?"

"No, I apparated away." Harry bit his lip. "I need protection now though. I've been looking at wards, but it will take me days if not weeks to get one strong enough to keep them away."

"There's very little in this world that could keep a wizard like Lucius Malfoy away. I assume his associate would be the same." Ian said darkly. "Your best bet would be –"

"-Runes and Goblin wards, I know. I can't get them though, can I? I'd need to go to Diagon Alley, plus they're expensive. Even more so when cast on just an apartment, it's tricky."

Ian sighed and slumped into the sofa, picking up one of the books. "Don't know what to tell you kid. I'll try and help you find something, but chances are it won't be strong enough."

"What would happen if we weaved multiple wards together?"

Ian furrowed his brow. "That's really common, most people have multiple wards on their home if they have any at all."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I didn't mean that. I mean, what if we weaved them together – into one spell? Like I don't know, mix them together? Not just overlay them like you usually would."

"I haven't heard of that before. There's a huge possibility it would blow up, but in theory it might work. Then again, a lot of experimental spells worked in theory, but could never truly happen."

"Do you think it would make it stronger?"

"It certainly would be more difficult to break, if only because it would be a completely new spell. Whoever was to break them would not be able to fall back on the usual patterns – so maybe it would be stronger." Ian said slowly.

Harry nodded. That was probably his best chance. Although just like everything else, it would take time to figure out and he was once again reminded he didn't have that time.

"We're going to have to set up some basic wards for now, anything that doesn't necessarily hide you, but warn you against intruders. It will give us time to find something more concrete."

Harry's stomach turned in worry. He never thought he'd ever be on the run. He was betting on spending his life living normally, finding a boyfriend and working in the flower shop. Only ever using magic to make his life a little more comfortable. Now, it was becoming his protection and also the thing he needed protecting from.

"I wish I could just call the police on them." Harry sighed.

"Sorry kid, but men like Malfoy are above the muggle law." Ian laughed.

…

Voldemort was angry, which wasn't exactly breaking news. However, the subject of his anger was someone he hasn't even thought of for many years. Harry Potter has left his attention soon after Voldemort learnt that the boy never returned to the Wizarding World. He searched for him for a while, however there wasn't much to go on and he had much bigger plans than looking for the Boy Who Lived as if he was a needle in a haystack.

Now he saw him in the flesh, years after he foolishly thought the boy – man now – was a problem solved and better left forgotten. Voldemort saw the similarities in the man compared to the mere babe that, he regrettably admitted, defeated him all those years ago. There were even more similarities between him and James Potter, who Voldemort remembered more vividly – he was once one of the Dumbledore's strongest supporters. Harry must be round about the same age as James was when he died.

Voldemort admitted that when Lucius approached him, he was doubtful. He trusted Lucius and his family well enough, however Draco Malfoy was young and easily fooled. It came as a surprise to see he was telling the truth and he must remember to reward both Malfoys for their help. When he first saw the boy, he knew immediately that it was him. The scar almost called him, sang to him. It was a most disturbing feeling that he needed to investigate, as he wasn't aware that it could even do that.

It was dangerous to just leave it alone like that, especially if someone discovered it and used it against him. He needed to bring Potter back to him, if only to get rid of the weakness. Voldemort remembered vaguely one other thing that called to him like that and it was a worrying prospect if his suspicions came true.

Voldemort and Lucius only left so quickly because they got what they wanted – a confirmation of what Draco said. They needed nothing more at that moment and the push to make Potter talk was a little half-hearted, if anything. His second attempt was a little too forceful though, although he rarely cared if he did that.

His second meeting with Potter left him much the same, with the scar calling out to him and only making his temper shorter. It was surprising to see Potter evade him so skilfully though and apparate away – he wasn't aware that the man was schooled in magic. Voldemort wasn't even aware that the boy had a wand and a knowledge of the wizarding world besides the basic knowledge that it existed.

Potter was a mystery and a puzzle, which Voldemort greatly enjoyed. After the two attempts at approaching Potter though, he knew he had to be careful when contacting him again. Clearly Potter had at least a little bit of self preservation in him that screamed warning signs when he and Lucius came near.

Voldemort needed to plan his next steps and something told him he'd need another point of view when it came to it.

He pulled out new parchment, penning a letter to someone he trusted even more than he did Lucius.

…

_**A/N:** A bit shorter than I wanted to make this, but I have a 3000 word essay to write and I've just started writing an original novel as well (let's all hope I actually finish this one) so I'd rather post something short, but faster, rather than make you wait for a 5k monstrosity for weeks. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review! Your opinions mean a lot to me._

_Thank you to all who favourited, subscribed and reviewed. I'm a little shocked at how big the view count is as well as the number of people on the alerts – I did not expect so many! Thank you everyone :)_

_**Still looking for a BETA, anyone up for it? x**_


	4. Where the Devil Can't Go

It was all terribly anti-climactic when Harry found a woman – clearly a witch – sitting in his poor excuse of a living room, waiting for him.

…

"My Lord, Lucius hasn't spoken to me on this matter. I must apologise, but I am a little out of my depth right now."

Voldemort smiled at the unusual show of weakness that came from the witch in front of him. Out of all of his followers, he trusted her more than he even trusted Lucius. The man everyone considered his right-hand was one of politics and always acted accordingly, however...the witch was raised in loyalty second only to the one of Godric Gryffindor, even if she looked down on his house.

Voldemort, regardless of being a Dark Lord and one of the most powerful wizards of his time, was still very much human. He needed someone he could trust and confide in, especially with the endeavours he got himself into. Most secrets he kept to himself, but those that were vital to his plans he had to tell to someone.

"That is understandable." Voldemort said. "I believe Lucius failed to tell you due to your position, if that is any consolation."

From the look of it, it wasn't. Narcissa Malfoy wasn't one who took such things lightly. She was raised in the belief of family coming first and never having any secrets from each other. What one knew, so did the others. It was clear she was displeased with Lucius and Draco, they should've came to her, even if only to mention the bare facts.

Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a witch you'd want to displease.

"A few weeks back, your son came in contact with who he believed to be Harry Potter." Voldemort continued. "He told Lucius, who in turn has informed me. Your husband and I investigated and it was him."

For a moment, Narcissa was silent. She processed the information and to her credit, she looked more curious than shocked.

"Do you have plans on how you will proceed, my Lord?" The Malfoy matriarch asked carefully.

"I have asked you here for a reason, Narcissa." The Dark Lord hummed. "I believe Mr Potter will not come to us willingly."

"He was raised among Muggles, he has no reason to." Narcissa reasoned. "You wish to use the legal route?"

"I'd prefer if the Ministry remained passive on the matter for now. The longer that the public doesn't know about him, the better." Narcissa nodded at that in understanding.

"It is curious though, how Mr Potter knows about magic and seems to be able to use it." Voldemort mused.

"That's impossible, there is not a wand registered under Harry Potter." The witch objected. The Ministry had a registry of every single wand sold in Britain and who it was bonded to. Other countries did the same, it was an automatic process. If Harry Potter got a wand, they'd be notified.

"Are you implying that I'm lying?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes. The witch sat up straight, her body tensing.

"No my Lord, if you saw it with your own eyes it must be true." She said quickly. "He must've stolen the wand from someone."

Voldemort hummed in agreement. "That is the most likely scenario."

They both sat in a moment of silence. Narcissa folded her hands in her lap, mulling over the information she was just presented with. She pursed her lips, thinking of Harry Potter. It felt odd that they found him so suddenly and that her own son did it. She felt there was something wrong with it all. After years of searching, it was much too easy.

Narcissa and Voldemort discussed the situation more. In the end, it has been decided that Narcissa would approach the boy. She was curious of him, being a woman who wanted to see things for herself rather than believing the word of mouth (even if the source was the Dark Lord).

…

Harry and Ian spent hours casting the wards around both of their apartments as well as the Flower Shop. Harry didn't want to abandon work just because of the situation he got himself into, even if both Ian and Mitchell insisted that he laid low in some cottage in the country for a few weeks. Harry was more stubborn than both of them combined.

"You should change your hair colour, maybe get some contacts? It could throw them off your trail for a bit." Mitchell mused while sat on top of the counter as Harry cast the last of the wards around the shop. "We could try bleaching it. How do you feel about blonde? Or maybe a nice red colour."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not in a spy movie. They'd see right through it."

"Not in a crowd." Mitchell pointed out. "We could use make up too, I mean girls look totally different when they put make up on so that could work."

"I can so imagine Lucius Malfoy getting fooled by a bit of foundation." Harry replied dryly.

"It is muggle, he just might." Mitchell tried to defend his point.

"Don't think that'd work mate, sorry." Ian added. He cast a spell to check the wards and make sure they haven't forgotten any of them. They were all basic wards, mostly to notify them of people approaching or breaching them rather than keeping people away. Some of the wards they weaved in were meant to repel people, those were just in the rare case Lucius Malfoy sent some lesser wizard to do his dirty work. Anyone with above average magical power could easily get through them.

"Why not? I had this girlfriend that explained to me what contouring was. I swear I was looking at a different person once she put it on." Mitchell said. "We could try covering the scar at least."

Ian shook his head. "They know where he works and I presume it's only a matter of time before they find his house. They're smart enough to put two and two together even if we gave Harry a makeover."

Mitchell opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but bit his lip and didn't speak a word. He jumped off the counter and went to the back, to sort of the plants waiting there. Harry and Ian shared a look. The stress was getting to them all and they knew Mitchell was only looking out for Harry in any way he could.

Ian sighed. "I better get going, my free period will finish soon. Got a year seven class to teach next."

Harry grimaced. "Good luck with that," He said. He remembered year sevens being one of the worst classes to teach in the afternoons – they were all hyperactive after consuming their weight in sweets during lunch.

"I'll need it," Ian smiled. "I'll apparate back a few blocks down, contact me if anything happens, alright?"

Harry assured him that if anything happened, Ian would be the first to know. As the wizard left, Harry cast a spell to see the wards surrounding the shop. The magic was swirling around in colourful lights, whispering of protection and safety. This was one of Harry's favourite spells – it visualised the magic spells and wards that a normal eye wouldn't see. It showed another side of magic – the beauty of it. It was originally created to aid curse breakers in removing wards and spells, but for Harry it was a way to see the galaxies of swirling colours that magic created.

He stood there for a while, just admiring the spells, but broke out of his thoughts when he remembered that someone could come in at any time. He quickly cancelled the spell and went to see Mitchell.

The owner was shuffling through the plants they stored in the back, organising them and making sure they were all watered. Without a word, Harry joined him. They spent the rest of the day doing work, be it helping the customers or just running maintenance on the plants. They started to gather the flowers a customer requested for an engagement party which they were to arrange tomorrow for pick up.

During work, they didn't really speak of anything important. Harry was glad as it returned the feeling of normalcy. Work distracted him from the paranoia of a wizard kidnapping him at any minute.

Harry's normal life resumed for a few days, he picked up Chinese or Indian to eat after work before heading home, reading a few books and falling asleep with the light on and a book open on his chest. He almost forgot about the wizards haunting his life. Almost.

It was all terribly anti-climactic when Harry found a woman – clearly a witch – sitting in his poor excuse of a living room, waiting for him.

She was sat on his sofa with a look of distaste on her face, hands folded in her lap and her back straight. Her hair was pinned back and robes neat, with her wand resting under her hands. She looked up when he entered, covered in dirt and plant fertiliser and with a box of Chicken Chop Suey in his hand.

A sudden sick feeling filled his stomach at an alarming rate.

"I apologise for intruding Mr Potter, but you're a difficult man to get a hold of." The witch said without missing a beat. "I hope you don't mind that I made myself comfortable. Please sit down."

It all felt terribly like a meeting – Harry was reminded of a job interview. He didn't take his eyes off the witch, panicking and wondering why his wards didn't go off. They should've at least told him that someone broke them. That is unless the witch was more powerful and careful than she looked. Harry remained standing up, although he put down his take away on the counter.

"Who are you?" He asked. His thoughts darted to potential escape routes and Plan Bs. He needed to escape and possibly take up the idea of hiding away in the country for a while as much as he didn't want to. Although a part of him was curious of why the wizards were after him.

"I assure you that I mean no harm and merely wish to talk." The witch said. She took her wand, at which Harry flinched and backed away. The witch noticed that, but continued to move. She put the wand down onto the coffee table next to the stack of books. "My name is Narcissa Malfoy."

She was related to Lucius Malfoy. Of course.

"I'm not here on the behalf of my husband or son, who you came into contact with not long ago as far as I'm aware." Narcissa Malfoy continued to speak. "Rather, I'm here on the behalf of myself and the Wizarding World."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. Somehow he didn't believe it. Narcissa saw that and sighed softly.

"My husband and his associate may have acted a little hastily." She said. "I wish I could apologise for their actions, but it is not my place to do so. You must understand that discovering that you're alive may be a little surprising to us all."

Harry snorted. "Why should anyone care? I'm just Harry."

"Finding out that the Boy Who Lived is truly alive and safe is something that many do care about. I do believe the Daily Prophet would enjoy a story like that." She smiled thinly. "You are anything but 'just Harry' and judging by your actions, I think you know of your heritage."

Harry looked away. "What if I do? I still want nothing to do with the Wizarding World."

"That doesn't mean we can allow you to be running around doing what you wish, Mr Potter. If I am to believe what I was told, you are using magic, are you not? Yet there is no wand registered under your name. Your magic is also unregulated and you live in a muggle area which risks revealing magic to muggles and thus breaking the laws that the Ministry has in place." Narcissa said. "Furthermore, you have no formal education in magic which is concerning as your accidental magic would've been a danger to you by now. Which means someone must've taught you and that is a direct link to the Wizarding World. Now, please tell me again how you want nothing to do with the Wizarding World."

Harry sat down at that. He didn't expect the Malfoy matriarch to come out with so many reasons Harry can't deny. She was clearly far too good at what she did.

"What do you want from me?" Harry finally decided to ask. He saw no other way around it all. If he apparated away and hid, it was only a matter of time before they found him again.

Narcissa smiled. "Like I said, I only wished to talk. Anything you say will remain mostly confidential between us. You must understand that I will have to file away some of what you tell me in order to keep you on the right side of the law."

"If I may ask, what is your position to be able to do this?"

The witch straightened her back, levelling her eyes with his. "I'm the Minister of Magic." She said simply.

With the way she looked and acted in the short time he saw her, Harry believed her.

"Now, would you be able to tell me where you have gotten your wand?"

…

Narcissa left her meeting with the Dark Lord with much to think about. She would approach Harry Potter in the following few days, needing those to plan what to say. She would approach him as a Ministry representative, even if she wouldn't formally file anything for a long time. Narcissa needed to work on some little white lies she could say. She hated outright lying when she could get away without it.

Before that however, she had to have a word with her family. She was kept in the dark and that didn't settle well with her.

When she entered the Manor, the elves told her that both her son and husband were in the lounge in the family wing, so she hastily made her way there. With flourish, she entered the room.

It was clear on both of the men's faces that they knew they were in trouble.

Narcissa strode into the room, robe billowing behind her. Draco sat on the sofa, legs curdled into himself and a book frozen in his grip. Even the ever-regal looking Lucius looked tense in his armchair.

Narcissa gave them the best of her cold smiles, kissing the shocked Draco on the forehead in greeting.

"Darling, I taught you better than to lie to your mother." She said and Draco swallowed hard. "You too, Lucius, should've told me as soon as Draco failed to do so."

"We thought it was better for the Ministry not to get involved." Lucius tried to explain.

Narcissa's eyebrows rose at that. "I am not the Ministry though. I am your wife. My position has nothing to do with your trust in me."

"Don't you have to follow the laws though?" Draco said.

"Darling, I make the laws." Narcissa said. "I can choose not to follow some of them in the safety of my own home. There is no one here to tell on me that I am breaking them."

The two men fell silent at that. Narcissa took that moment so sit down on the leather sofa on the opposite end from Draco.

"I hope that this is the only thing that you've kept from me."

…

_**A/N:**__ I'm back! Sorry for the long wait but I had University assignments until 1__st__ May and then I took a few days to relax. I'm free for the summer now though, so I can write. I'm not happy with this chapter though, it feels a bit…meh. What I wanted to happen, happened, but it was a struggle to write. Now it's over I hope the rest will go smoothly._

_Hope you enjoyed, please like and review!_


	5. Announcement! Not Abandoned

Announcement for this fic.

When I started writing Independence, I had lots planned for the end and no sure plan on how to get there. It was something I wrote out of boredom. I've improved as a writer since then, thanks to the classes I took at university and when I picked this up to write again…I wasn't happy with it. It was falling flat in places.

I've decided to rewrite it. So it is not abandoned! I've already started on the process. What will happen is that once I re-write all the current chapters, I will post them as a new story and will post on here to notify you of it.

Thanks for sticking with me through this and I'll hope to see you on the new version :D There's no 100% date for when it will be just yet though.

19/02/2016


End file.
